


Devil within

by glackedandmullered



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Eating Disorder, description of eating disordered behaviours
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 19:19:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1123443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glackedandmullered/pseuds/glackedandmullered
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael has struggled with his eating disorder for years, he thought it was over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Devil within

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: ahot6 that deals with Michael and an eating disorder? like he's had it since his teenage years and sometimes he relapses and during one of the relapses the guys find out and are shocked and sad to see his bones sticking out and trying to understand why he does it but they don't ask they just take care of him and try to make it better for him?
> 
> This didn't end up being nearly as long as it felt like it was but I refused to sleep until it was finished.

_Just do it. You know you can, you’ve done it_ plenty _of times before._

**No. No I’m not gonna do it, I’m better.**

_You’re going to do it. You might as well just do it now._

**I beat this, it’s over.**

_**It’s never over** _

Vomit streamed into the porcelain bowl.

\---

It had started innocently. As innocently as it could have anyway, a suggestion from a high school friend during 8th grade. They’d enjoyed a long night playing xbox and stuffing their faces with pizza and snack foods they picked up at the store around the corner. They laid next to each other while Michael rolled around on the carpet and moaned in discomfort, beating himself up for eating that much crap when he had a weigh in for boxing the next day. He wasn’t all that invested in the sport but he wasn’t going to deal with the red faced fury of his coach for a third time.

“You could always…you know,” Luke gestured with two fingers to his open mouth, making an obscene choking noise and Michael scoffed, slapping his shoulder weakly. 

“Nah man that’s gross.”

Nonetheless he stayed awake for hours that night, unable to sleep for the gnawing in his stomach, Luke’s comment playing over and over in his mind like a song stuck on repeat. It took 3 hours from the moment he lay his head down on the pillow for him to throw himself out of bed, stalk down the hall quietly and then suddenly he was stood in front of the toilet bowl, the seat raised up. 

He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and shook his head, turning back to the door. 

“Fucking stupid.” He sighed and was about to turn the door handle to return back to his room when the voice returned, louder and firmer and accompanied by a recollected playback of the last time he had over indulged just before a weigh in. The gruff sharp tone of his coach when the man got right up in his face and made him know how much of a dumb fucking brat he was. 

He huffed with a shaky drop of his shoulders and paced the room three times before returning to the toilet. Once there he breathed deep and raised two fingers to his lips, opening his mouth and pushing them to the back of his throat. He pressed down lightly and felt the first push of his gag reflex choke him, startling him enough to pull back. With a determined huff he licked his lips and tried again, this time pushing them just that little bit further so the rest of his hand was right on his lips, he pressed a little harder and that was it. He pulled his hand back quickly, not quite avoiding the splash back as vomit forced it’s way up his throat and it gushed into the toilet, splattering the sides of the bowl and it was all Michael could do to hold onto the seat as it just kept coming. 

He collapsed to his knees when it was over, not much caring if his face was smeared with vomit as he rested it against the seat. His Mom rapped quickly on the door, asking him hastily if he was alright. He replied affirmatively commenting that he should definitely not have had all that pizza. His mom responded with a brief ‘I told you so’ and left him alone in his misery. 

It wasn’t exactly misery though; as he laid there on the tiled floor he couldn’t help but feel a wash of calm over him, a brief flicker of accomplishment at how empty his stomach felt. He was completely clean for his weigh in and he would be perfectly fine. 

He came to love that empty feeling, crave it even. Sometimes, when he felt just a little too stressed or something upset him so much he couldn’t think straight he would find himself in a bathroom stall, fingers down his throat until he could once again gain back that feeling of emptiness, complete control. 

It ticked over to danger in 9th grade when the vomiting wasn’t enough and he wasn’t feeling as empty as he should, his stomach gnawing at the food still there and his gag reflex starting to fight him. In 9th grade when he decided that he just shouldn’t eat anything to begin with. If there was nothing there to fill him up then he wouldn’t have to empty, he would be perfectly in control at all times. 

The third time he collapsed was in the hallway between classes and then everyone found out. His mom was called, he was sent to a psychiatrist who just plain refused to believe him when he told her that he wasn’t trying to be thin, he was not some girl with vanity issues, sure he had quit boxing when he felt too weak and tired to be fighting anyone but it wasn’t because he didn’t like his body. He hadn’t really looked at it much to be honest; he knew what it must look like though. But hey, there was a price to be paid to be this in control. 

Taking away his coping mechanism did terrible things to Michaels mind; he tried running away his emotions, that never worked. He tried punching things – pillows, walls, mirrors – still nothing. Nothing could replace that feeling inside. 

It was early his Junior year when his Mom sought more professional help when she found her Son screaming in the bathroom, shattered glass around him and blood on his knuckles. 

His doctor helped him, over time he lost the need to do anything destructive and he was encouraged to let his anger, which had built up over the years of struggling, out in more productive ways. Thus he founded his YouTube channel, yelling at computer games and screaming bullshit at the screen which eventually landed him his job at RoosterTeeth productions in Austin with some incredible people. 

There were still days when he would crave the empty feeling he used to obsess over and occasionally he would experience what they refer to as a relapse and he would spend the next few days wallowing in self pity and convincing himself it was normal after what he went through until the feeling cleared and his smile became genuine once again and everything was normal. 

Being in a relationship with 5 men was hard. Stressful, even, with the pressure to equally disperse emotions to everyone. Trying to keep track of every person at all times and using all his time and effort to keep the relationship standing. 

It was no surprise to him when the gnawing craves returned to his stomach. In the middle of the night when they were sleeping he would get up, vomit and return to bed like nothing had happened. In the day, at the office he would throw up their shared lunches into the toilet and skip the meal altogether on days he was on his own. 

It all came to a head one afternoon when they were messing around in the office. Ryan swung his arms under Michael back and legs and lifted him off his feet as the other laughed off to the side. 

“Woah, Michael you’re so light!” He remarked, surprised. 

“Shut up, Ryebread.” Michael kicked his way out of Ryan grasp and landed on his feet unsteadily, his head rushing and throbbing, continuing to spin even as he stopped moving altogether. 

“You okay, man?” Jack asked quickly, grasping his arm as he swayed. 

“Yeah! I’m still spinning, goddamnit Ryan you couldn’t have picked up Gavin?” Ryan laughed and slapped him half heartedly on the shoulder as Gavin and Ray collapsed onto each other on the couch and Geoff wrapped his arms around Michaels waist from behind, kissing his shoulder. 

“Shall we get going?” He asked and there were affirmative anwers from everyone and they all pottered around the office getting their things ready to leave.

Everyone, that was, but Michael. He remained where Ryan had dropped him, body feeling very weak and paralyzed and there was darkness tugging at the edges of his vision. Today had been a bad day; upchuck breakfast, skip lunch, vomit out the greasy snack that Ray brought back from wherever he had gone for an hour, and he just felt rough. He stayed where he was, swaying softly and focusing on the wall behind Ryan where the man had his back turned to his boyfriend trying desperately to fight the feint feeling that he was experiencing. He had felt like this before, the worst time being the one years ago when he ended up face down and unconscious on the school carpet and he just knew what was about to happen. 

“Michael?” The voice was muffled, like it was filtering through cotton wool or bubbling up from underwater and he wasn’t even sure who said it, he just knew that seconds later a bearded face appeared in the centre of his vision and it was the last thing he saw before the darkness crept in and he felt himself falling. 

\---

Jack caught him as he fell, arms wrapping protectively around his body, lowering him until he was cradled in his lap on the floor. The other quickly kneeling beside him.

“What happened?” Gavin squeaked and Jack just shrugged with a look of panic flashing across his face.

“I have no idea.” It was true, one minute they were ready to go and the next he had turned around, seen Michael still stood wavering on his feet where they had left him, face white and eyes unfocused and it had taken barely seconds for him to collapse boneless. Sure he had looked a little dizzy after Ryan had put him down but it was only a bit of fun, it wasn’t like they’d stuck him on a playground merry-go-round and left him there for hours. 

Either way he had a lap full of unconscious boyfriend and four worried men leaning over him. 

“Jesus.” Ray whispered and 4 heads turned to look at him and follow his gaze down to where Ray was looking with a horrified expression on his face. When lowering him to the ground Jack had lifted Michael shirt, leaving it hitched up to his chest and his stomach was clearly visible. It was concave and waxy, stretched taught over his too visible hip bones, his ribs were protruding and straining against his skin. 

“Fuck, Michael what have you done?” Geoff whispered to the unconscious man. 

They moved him to the couch before trying to wake him up, cushioning his head on Gavin’s rolled up sweater Ryan stroked his thumb over the man’s pale cheek before slapping it gently and calling his name softly. 

It took a few minutes and some firm shaking of his shoulder – and Ray was seconds away from calling an ambulance or someone – but eventually Michaels eyes blinked open sluggishly and he groaned. 

Ryan immediately calmed him when he felt the man tense under his hand, shushing him tenderly and whispering reassurances into his ear. They help him sit up and someone hands over a bottle of water which Ryan has to hold because Michael can’t get his damn hands to stop shaking. 

He knows exactly what happened, he wasn’t an idiot. Well, actually he kind of was but that wasn’t the point. He’d gone and fucking passed out in the middle of the room on top of one of his boyfriends because he was being a damn fool again. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered over the lip of the bottle, going back to taking small sips and allowing the fogginess in his brain to settle down. 

“You don’t have to be sorry, just tell us what the hell happened.” Jack assured him, stroking a soothing hand over his dampened curls. 

“It’s not what you think.” He urged and held a shaky hand up when they looked as if they would protest, “No, I know that you’re thinking and it’s not that, I swear.”

“So what I think is that you haven’t been eating.” Geoff commented sternly and Michael sighed.

“Okay maybe it’s a little bit of what you think.” 

“Do you think you’re fat?” Gavin whispered and Michael shook his head briskly, having to stop and take a few seconds to breathe when the black spots returned. 

They gave him the time he needed and just waited in anxious silence while he recovered. 

“I promise it’s not that. I…I know I’m skinny as fuck now…I can’t explain it, I’m sorry. I thought I was over it, a couple of relapses here and there but I was better. I don’t know why it came back.”

“What came back?” Ryan coaxed, though he already knew the answer.

“My…fuck…my eating disorder.” Michael spoke the words thickly as if they physically pained him to say them. 

“I got diagnosed with EDNOS when I was in high school. That’s like the shitty eating disorder when you’re not an open book case. Which is me apparently.” He explained and bit his lip at the understanding nods of his boyfriends. 

The silence that followed gave Michael too much time to reflect. Hi stomach was growling and throbbing, his head was still swimming slightly but the worst thing was that he could almost feel the coming rejection bleeding from the men surround him. He knew what came next, what came next was they would leave. They would leave him for being a damn idiot and too much bother, they deserved so much better than him but he couldn’t bring himself to accept what was going to happen.

 _Please don’t leave me_ he thought and only realised he’d said it out loud when Ray leaned closer to him and asked him to repeat that. 

“Please don’t leave me.” He sniffled and swallowed hard against the lump in his throat as all 5 guys suddenly tackled him, hugging every available part of him tightly. He gasped, shocked by the affection and his eyes widened as they snuggled close to him.

“We’ll never leave you, you silly sausage. Never.” Gavin whispered into his ear and kissed his neck gently. He felt Geoff nod against his other side and a firm squeeze on his ankle from where Ray sat on the floor.

“Now we know, we can help you. We _will_ help you, Michael. You can beat this.” Jack said firmly and for once, not only did Michael feel like maybe he _could_ do this, he also felt like he needed to, for the men he loved. True recovery was long overdue.


End file.
